


Desperate measures

by RussianWitch



Series: Kinktober2018 [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bondage, Extremely Dubious Consent, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 12:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16175393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: Day 3 kinktober 2018 prompt.Sensory deprivation is the only way to keep a werewolf.Chris feels guilty for enjoying Peter's predicament a little too much.





	Desperate measures

**Author's Note:**

> not betaed

Peter might be a wolf, but in a lot of ways, he reminds Chris of a bird of prey.  
He’s beautiful kneeling with his legs wide, back straight and arms clasped behind his back barely trembling as random electrical shocks run through his body from the plug filling his ass. Chris is already looking forward to fucking Peter later, using a soothing cream for lube as he slides into the wolf’s abused hole, listening to the wolf’s whimpers of pain turn into moans of pleasure.  
A fat gag silences Peter for the moment, keeps his jaws wide and his mouth full.  
The solid rubber sits heavily on his tongue under the thick rubber hood, its only feature a zipper that allows access to the mouth curled across its front in a parody of a smile.  
The filters in the nostrils leave Peter nose blind, the plugs in his ears leave him deaf to everything but the sound of blood running through is veins, the random jolts of pain make it difficult to feel anything else.  
Peter is trapped in darkness and pain for a long or as short as Chris wishes it—even doing nothing, the wolf is far too distracting for his own good.  
With a curse, Chris throws the paperwork he's failing to concentrate on to the side and stands, clasping the back of Peter's neck to signal that the wolf should rise.   
He guides the wolf to his bedroom ignoring the smirks on the faces of people they pass in the hallways. They know better than commenting on their commander's toy, or his eagerness to fuck it in the middle of the day.  
A light push has the wolf on his knees, weeks of training at work.  
Chris shuts down the plug and watches as some of the tension drains out of his pet.   
If Peter could be trusted—Chris wouldn't need the plug at all.  
Dropping to his knees, he nuzzles the spot between the wolf's shoulder blades taking in the wolf's scent and heat secure in the knowledge his secret will be safe.  
He digs his fingers into the hard muscle of Peter's thighs, up to explore the knotted muscle of the wolf's abdomen crisscrossed with thick scars slowly fading now that the wolf belongs to Chris.  
The wolf shivers under his hands, not with anticipation, not with lust—but Chris has learned to ignore the tremors and his conscience.  
Chris guides them both to their feet and towards the bed, tapping Peter's wrists to signal he's allowed to let go.  
Removing the plug takes some effort.  
The wolf's healing is keeping him tight even with electricity running through his body.  
Peter is still soft, but Chris' mouth waters at the prospect of feeling him grow and fill up his throat.  
He pushes Peter's legs apart, kneels by the bed like a supplicant before an altar and mouths at the soft flesh, sucking gently, until it stirs on his tongue. Peter's dick grows on his tongue, fills his mouth as Peter clutches at the bedsheets, the gag filling his mouth keeping him from crying out in pain or pleasure.   
Closing his eyes, Chris imagines he'll feel a hand on his head at any minute guiding him, making him take Peter's dick deeper.  
He'll get none of it, but Chris can imagine as long as he keeps his eyes closed.  
The plug comes out with a tug and a twist leaving Peter's ass hole red and open, swollen from the abuse but already healing. Chris traces the puffy rim gently, over and over until he feels the wolf grow restless before climbing up on the bed and reach for the fastenings of the hood.  
Fastenings no wolf can open, infused with wolfsbane and spells made especially for hunters and carefully kept secret.  
Peter's lips, wrapped around the gag, are chapped and crackled when Chris rolls the hood up. It doesn't keep him from wanting to kiss the taste of rubber from them and have the kiss answered. The wolf draws a big, gulping breath and moves his jaw as soon as the gag is removed his mouth twisting as the muscles protest further strain.  
Peter doesn't try to speak, but then, Chris doesn't expect him to, not any longer.  
He presses a kiss to the corner of the wolf's mouth and moves on, taking care not to hurt the wolf as he extracts the nose plugs.  
With the return of his sense of smell, Chris feels the wolf relax a little more.  
Chris is tempted to leave the wolf blinded, spare himself the glare—giving himself a minute more; he takes the earplugs out first, then rolls the hood all the way and off Peter's head throwing it off the bed.  
The wolf's glare cuts him to the bone as Chris settles back between the wolf's thighs.  
He focuses on lubing himself up with the cream thoroughly before pushing into Peter's body.  
The wolf hisses and bites his lip, but arches into Chris' thrusts soon enough.  
His eyes smolder with hatred, deep blue like water in a deep well.  
Chris can read his death in those eyes, savage and bloody when the right time comes.  
He closes his hand around the wolf's erection, milks it for all he's worth forcing the wolf to come on his dick again and again until his own body is screaming for release and Chris can't control himself any longer.  
Chris comes, sobbing his release against Peter's chest, the universe collapsing around them for a breath until there is nothing there any longer except the two of them and the bed.


End file.
